A depressed-looking regular enters a bar and orders a Coke. The bartender asks why he doesn’t want his usual shot of whiskey.
“I quit drinking,” the man replies. “Last night I blew chunks.”
“What’s so horrible about that?” the bartender asks. “Everyone gets sick once in a while after a long night of drinking.”
“No, no,” the man replies. “You don’t understand. Chunks is my dog.”
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